Dan Arestia Learns 'There's No Place Like Dome'

Syracuse has played host to some of the most iconic and enduring moments in the history of lacrosse.

The Dome, be it the Carrier or the JMA Wireless, opened in 1981. It is the site of the Air Gait goal. It’s where Mikey Powell did a front flip in a game. Syracuse won a title in 1988 in front of 20,000 fans in the Dome. It’s where Syracuse beat Virginia in front of 18,000 fans, one of the best regular-season games of all time, by a score of 22-21. The game featured Michael Watson, Doug Knight, Jay Jalbert, Paul Carcaterra, Ryan Powell and Casey Powell, who produced 13 points and the game-winning goal. The list goes on.

Every inch of the field in the Dome has a story to tell. Something remarkable happened there. After Syracuse beat Johns Hopkins on March 9, I found myself in Orange Crate Brewing Company. I stood, explaining to some alumni that this was my first time there for a game, and I was trying to learn as much as I could about the magic that Syracuse has captured for home games. That’s when Casey Powell smiled at me and said, “There’s just no place like Dome.”

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The ride to Syracuse from my home in Connecticut is long, but easy. Four hours, but relatively quiet roads through the Catskills. Occasionally, a few snowflakes start coming down and they seem to just be part of the scenery, like the mountains or trees themselves. If signs on the highways didn’t tell you that you were only a few miles from Syracuse, you’d never realize it. But there are plenty of other signs that you’re entering a place where lacrosse is part of the fabric of the community. At first, it’s just some small school fields with lacrosse nets on them. But when you see the exit sign for Onondaga Nation, you know you’re someplace special.

I parked at the JMA Wireless Dome (though there was no shortage of fans still saying Carrier Dome) and made my way inside. The dome itself has had some updates, but there are still features that maintain the building’s personality. Fans enter through old revolving doors, and on windy days, the rush of air through them can make you feel lilke the building is actually pulling you inside. At the risk of offering too much information, the men’s room still has troughs, very much a relic of a bygone era, but it’s also something that feels like it’s supposed to be there.

Seats in the Dome are, for the most part, general admission. I wanted to grab a spot behind the Syracuse bench. I walked into the Dome around 12:20, thinking that would be plenty of time. The crowd inside was already sizable. Concourses were busy, and people were going to grab seats even though the game was still 90 minutes away. 

I walked through the concourse and up the aisle to reach the section I planned on sitting in and was able to find a good seat. All through the section, there were bags, purses and coats strewn across seats, reserving their spots, and many were completely unattended. There’s no risk of anything being taken; nobody would dare do such a thing to a fellow Cuse fan. That familiarity and friendliness persisted everywhere I went.

After putting my own coat down, I headed back to the concourse. A little over an hour until game time, I wanted to explore the pregame options. I walked to the west end zone and made my way into Club 44. It’s a bar/lounge area, typically part of premium seating but open for lacrosse games. The 44 is a legendary number at Syracuse. While lacrosse fans immediately think of 22, across the athletic department, 44 is as storied as it gets. Worn by legends Ernie Davis, Floyd Little, Derrick Coleman and lacrosse icon Jim Brown, the number is the largest among all others in the rafters above the field.

I might have been the only person in the building not wearing Syracuse orange or Johns Hopkins blue. Orange was everywhere. There were jerseys of all sorts from all eras. I felt unique as a first timer and almost hoped I wouldn’t be found out as a newbie. Pregame beers and food were shared, and the atmosphere was closer to a family reunion than a stadium bar. Everyone was happy to see everyone else. There is optimism for the game, as most Syracuse fans believed “they need to have” this one. Some gentle ribbing between Orange and Blue Jay fans goes on, and it all ends with laughter. Some conversations are tactical for the game itself. Some are just friends catching up.

By the time the game started, fans were all in their seats. Concourses were empty. Nobody gets up during the game. The available lower bowl seats were filled, and some of the upper deck seats were occupied, too. Stadium staff said they anticipated this being the busiest game of the year. Over 8,600 fans were in attendance, validating the anticipation.

Syracuse and Hopkins is a rivalry that goes back over a century. In all that time, it’s been pretty even. Their first meeting was in 1921 and ended in a 4-4 tie. Hopkins holds the all-time edge (32-30-1). Following Sunday’s game, their last 10 meetings are an even split.

Syracuse got out to a hot start, as Billy Dwan took a ground ball the length of the field, spun off a defender and found Joey Spallina on the goal line to make it a quick 1-0. Fans in the Dome were eager to explode the whole day. While, historically, Syracuse is remembered for highlight plays on offense, those weren’t always the plays that got the biggest roars of appreciation from the crowd.

Early in the first quarter, a long ground ball battle was won along the endline by Trey Deere, extending a Syracuse possession that ended with a goal from Owen Hiltz. Late in the game, Deere caused a turnover with a well-timed check on the ride, and the Orange converted the possession into a goal. The crowd recognized and cheered for these plays and players in their entirety. It wasn’t just about the goal. There was appreciation for the effort.

There was a highlight goal that electrified the fans. Sam English carried down the wing as Spallina ran up to meet him above the goal. English popped the ball in the air, and when it came down, the Hopkins goalie wasn’t sure who had it. Fans around me did. 

There were little under-your-breath whispers of “Joey still has it…” being uttered. It was like the entire section was in on this little secret and didn’t want to spoil it. Spallina stepped into a shot from 30 yards away and buried it as the Hopkins defense looked on. The fans exploded. It was the loudest moment of the day. A Syracuse fan messaged me and said, “There’s the Dome magic.”

A late three-goal run gave Syracuse the victory. Michael Leo’s tally with three minutes to go was cheered as the dagger. Fans sensed that victory was within reach. They got loud and stayed loud for the game’s final minutes to will their Orange over the finish line. English was on the field for nearly the entire game, and the boost from the home fans was noticeable as he became more and more fatigued.

Moments like the hidden ball trick have a way of invoking history as they happen. There’s history all around the Dome, and when big plays happen, that history can leak onto the field again. Looking to the rafters, you see names like Gait and Powell. It’s hard not to imagine them running on the field as you look at the live game. It’s like you can see past Orange players making the play in your mind’s eye as it happens in front of you.

English and Spallina pulled it off, but Roy Colsey and Rob Kavovit are out there, too, and you can almost see them doing it. When you play against Syracuse in the Dome, you play against the crowd, and you play against all the legends who have played there before.

After the game, I swung by Orange Crate Brewing Company, one of the popular postgame spots. Syracuse jerseys and helmets adorn the walls, and the crowd is just about all fans who made their way over from the Dome. Casey Powell was there, graciously saying hello to fans and snapping photos. Talking with Powell, it became clear to me the secret sauce is the community feel and the attachment to the region that makes the Dome so special.

We talked about seeing that sign for Onondaga Nation and understanding it meant you were entering the birthplace of lacrosse. There’s a reverence and respect that comes with that, and the constant reminders of where the game comes from and who introduced it to the world foster that respect among fans and players.

Powell told me about how Coach Roy Simmons still lives locally, even suggesting that I just go knock on his door because he’s always willing to talk lacrosse. “The beers are in the cupboard,” Powell tells me with a laugh. Why does Coach Simmons keep them there? Nobody seems to know for sure. But a beer and a lacrosse conversation seem to be in play at all times. These days, Simmons spends a lot of time pursuing his interests in art, I was told.

There’s balance in all of this. When I visited Buffalo, things felt similar. It’s delicate. It’s hard to cultivate. The magic of it is, as loud as the Dome is during games and as passionate as the fans are, it’s supported by a community that is not flash and glitter. It’s simple.

The passion for the sport in the community has led it to a place where, even though it’s situated in the very birthplace of lacrosse, legends and icons are happy to simply grab a beer out of the cupboard and enjoy each other’s company.

The Dome fits in as a museum and steward of the moments in time that created this magical balance. Those incredible moments through the venue’s history live there forever, enjoyed by all who have visited. The Dome is friendly, it’s happy you’re there, it wants to tell you all about the incredible moments from lacrosse history that it has witnessed.

It all gives you the sense of home. There’s no place like it.